As I entered the kitchen, the dense air infested with flies around last nights unwashed dinner made my breathing difficult. I languidly opened the fridge, and rashly searched for my half-empty bottle of full cream milk. The pale silver kitchen floor tiles were chilly like iron frozen in an arctic winter and the radiant sun light that came beaming through the windows reflected into my eyes. Blinded for a short while, I clumsily let go of the bottle of milk but still managed to catch it with a last grasp. Time seemed to halt to a stop, as I opened the wooden kitchen cabinet, and searched for the usual pack of Kellogg‘s Cornflakes. The packet felt distinctively heavy when I picked it up, but placing it on the kitchen table, I looked through the dishes inside the dishwasher that I left on last night to find a suitable bowl into which I pour the golden crunchy cornflakes.
Picking up the spoon that was left over from last night’s dinner; I leisurely started to munch on my cornflakes, before realizing that I hadn’t poured milk into the bowl. Reaching across the table to grab my bottle of milk, I pulled it towards me. I couldn’t seem to keep my hand still as I tried filling my bowl of cornflakes with the creamy white milk. At last though, I had my food prepared in front of me, but no morning was perfect without a good old cup of the finest Colombian roast coffee. Getting off the chair again, I boiled some water in the kettle, and prepared as usual; 3 spoons of the best Colombian roast coffee and 2 spoons of brown sugar in a light green mug.
Walking at snail’s pace across the kitchen gripping my coffee in my right hand, I had to make sure the mug wouldn’t slither out of my hands or spill from my unbalanced steps. Finally, I could sit on the wooden chair in front of my new, black, Italian designer kitchen table and just relax. As I stared at the ceiling in loneliness, a constant ticking of the old grandfather clock that stood in the living room, seemed to be the only presence in the house, as I finally managed to get started on the cornflakes. After a short while I was done with my quick breakfast, and felt recovered with a fresh load of energy in me ready to be exploited. Leaving the empty bowl and mug where it was to take care of it later, I walked towards the kitchen window, analyzing the people and cars that drove by before opening the window to let some fresh air in. Due to the fact that my house was located right at the edge of town, next to the local forest park, and a soothing fresh scent of wet leaves and grass from last nights rain filled the room, removing the impenetrable air, immediately making my breathing more smooth and tranquil.
While strolling up the stairs to the bathroom, I found my slippers that I immediately slipped on to stop my feet tingling from the dust particles all over the cold, wooden floor. With a sigh of relief, my morning enlightened, as there was nothing bothered me anymore. A quick warm shower was all I now needed to get ready for a typical indolent Friday afternoon at the office. The refreshing shower and icy scents of my Gillette Mint after shave made me feel like a fresh man, with my new look smoothly shaved face wiping out all heavy signs of sleepiness. As I put my freshly cleaned suit on, a wonderful smell of lemon aroma ran through my nose. Now I had to start looking for my notes that I prepared last night for the monthly board meeting I had planned for the morning. My papers, full of figures and tables were spread around my lap top on the desk, with my glasses laying on them. Hurriedly arranging the files in the black folder that sat on the side of my desk and packing my lap top into the shiny silver suitcase, I looked out of the window to find any presence of my driver.
All of a sudden a blood-colored Lamborghini screeched to a halt beside the crumbling, concrete curb. The left door quickly opened and a tall, skinny man emerged. He brushed his long hair back with a thin, white comb and his ferocious black eyes surveyed the street as he moved briskly to the passenger's door. Quickly chucking his suitcase to the back seats, he picked up his cell phone, and called my house. Picking up my singing mobile that was located on the oak cupboard by my bed, in a voice coated with oil, he politely asked me to come down, due to the heavy traffic conditions as I was at risk of not reaching the office in time. Walking down the stairs, I took a final look at my interior to ensure that everything was alright. Opening the front door, I noticed an audience of school boys outside starring at my stylish Lamborghini. Aware of this I unhurriedly locked the house and made my way to the car in a serious and professional manner, without emotion, pulling the right passenger door open and having a final moment of pride, as the spotlight from gazing school boys was on me. Rolling the window down, I light my last cigarette in the pack of Marlboro Lights and tried to focus on my meeting, as the roar of the engine, scared the children away, whilst my driver slowly set off down the street towards the highway.
